The Compendium of Hogwash
by Ihateseatbelts
Summary: Some ideas are meant to flourish, and others need to die a quick, lonely death. I'm just going to leave all of these here. Aside from 'For Want of a Nail' springboards with AU-ness of potentially epic proportions, features jilted partners, cursed ferrets, conflicted overlords and more.
1. The Green-Eyed Monster

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Harry Potter, or his universe, or his owl, or even his awesome wand polishing kit. That's all the property of J K Rowling. As a matter offact, I don't own shack jit, so how 'bout you get off my back, 'kay?

Sorry.

**TITLE: **_Harry Potter and the Compendium of Hogwash_

**SUMMARY: **A couple of the Gryffindor boys have a completely grown-up discussion. Ron and Neville are off somewhere playing chess - I don't know.

* * *

Dean yawned as he plopped down on his four-poster bed.

'So - I bumped into Corner downstairs.'

'That yoke?' rang Seamus' voice from the bathroom.

Dean ignored him. 'Oi. Harry,' he called.

The bespectacled wizard glanced up from his copy of _Seeker Weekly_. 'Yeah?'

'I bumped into Corner downstairs,' Dean said again with a slow nod.

Harry stared at him. 'Okay,' he said, returning to his magazine.

Dean frowned for a moment.

'So... you don't wanna know... ' he said nonchalantly, making odd hand gestures as he regarded the ceiling, possibly waiting for some divine sign.

Harry sighed as he shut the magazine. 'Yes, Dean?'

'You don't have to be like that, mate- '

'Like what?' asked Harry with a raised eyebrow.

Dean groaned into his hands.

'Are you all righ- ' started Harry as the taller wizard launched himself from the four-poster.

'Look,' said Dean with a deep exhale. 'I know things are different with you and Ginny now, yeah? I get that, and I _swear _this has nothing to do with me- '

'Sounds like it does... '

'But it's a small world, mate,' continued Dean, 'and while you might think that your actions don't reflect on us- '

'Where are you going with this, Dean?'

Dean glowered. 'Corner says that Padma saw you and Ginny sucking face round the back of the Shrieking Shack, and you had your hands up her- '

'Oh yeah?' echoed another mirthful lilt from the bathroom.

Harry shrugged. 'Fair play,' he muttered. 'We thought it was pretty remote, you know – what with it being the Shack.'

Dean gave him an incredulous look. 'You what? Are you having a laugh, mate?'

'No, but I am!' Seamus shouted in-between sniggers.

'What's your issue anyway?' asked Harry, arms crossed.

'My issue?' blustered Dean, his eyes narrowed. 'What's _your _issue? Bloody Chosen One – doesn't that count for something? While you're gallivanting around Hogsmeade doing who knows what with... she's a good witch, mate, not some scarlet harlot!'

'You're sounding a lot like Ron right now,' Harry said under his breath.

'And why outside?' Dean pressed on. 'We have _broom _closets, Harry. Myrtle's bathroom!'

'What I want to know,' said Harry, standing up to squarely face the other wizard, 'is why our 'purity' matters to you. And what was Padma even doing there?'

'Cheeky bit of menage a trois?'

'Shut up, Seamus!' Harry and Dean bellowed in chorus.


	2. Expecting

**DISCLAIMER: **It's not mine. Well, the plot is... kind of. You know what I mean.

Sorry.

**TITLE: **_Harry Potter and the Compendium of Hogwash_

**SUMMARY: **Sirius and the gang are expecting an addition after a grueling all-you-can-eat session.

* * *

As he strolled through the exit of the Flaky Graphorn, James Potter inhaled the aroma of dragon's blood which suffused along the winding lanes of a starlit Diagon Alley.

Today bore witness to a momentous victory for British wizardry, in his unnecessarily humble opinion. For a group to have completed the restaurant's Ironbelly Challenge and walk out alive was unheard of, let alone a measly group of three plus something that was kind of like one, but not really one.

'Whew! Nice one,' said James, winking at his companions as he patted his stomach. 'Could go for a nightcap in a bit, whadja reckon?'

Remus shot him a sidelong glance.

'What?' asked James, frowning.

'We've overdone it, don't you think?'

'No,' replied James, picking a stray strip of Fire Crab meat from his teeth. 'No, I don't.'

'But look at what it's done to Sirius,' said Remus reproachfully, his baggy-eyes strained as he pointed an accusing finger at the groaning hulk of robes behind them.

'_Urk... _I think I'm _pregnant_, lads...' panted the hulk.

'That does sound like cause for concern,' said Peter, but no one heard him.

James sauntered over to the straggly-haired mass of robes, giving it a good-natured shove.

'Paddy...' he said, tutting affectionately as he poked the mass with a boot. 'Come on, up you get!'

Sirius moaned in pain as James yanked his arm.

'No, _nonononooooo..._'

Remus winced. 'Easy, Prongs!' He knelt beside Sirius, cautioning James with a raised hand. 'I think this is serious... '

'It is,' came a muffled wail from Sirius' robes. 'I'm having a baby, for f-'

'Come off it, mate,' said James, snorting. 'You might've skipped Pomfrey's lectures, but... you all right, Moony?'

'Maybe he's pregnant too?' offered Peter, as he looked on from thirty feet away.

But he wasn't. James knew that look: the Glassy Stare of Lunar Foreboding. Remus usually got it when he was feeling more hopeless than usual - like the morning before the full moon - or when he ran out of chocolate.

'What was that delicacy called again, James?' His voice was barely audible. 'The one you two swore was spaghetti?'

'It _was _spaghetti,' said James, his brow furrowed.

'No it wasn't. I told you I'd read about it- '

'Piss off, Moony,' James said with a dismissive wave. 'You can't cook Boggart entrails! No one's ever seen a Boggart's true form.'

'But they _have!_' argued Remus, his face ashen. 'In Albania. They use the entrails in transformative potions all the time!'

'There aren't any Boggart entrails in a Polyjuice Potion,' said James, scratching his head.

Remus frantically shook his head.

'But there are in Twinkling Tinctures,' he countered, his eyes wide. 'Why do you think those 'half-vamipre' witches are all sparkly half the time?'

James conceded his point with a nod.

Sirius yelped. 'I think it just kicked... '

'We need to get him to Mungo's, James!' said Remus, his throat tight with fear.

'But it doesn't make any sense, Moony!' James cried. 'You must have some sort of crazy theory, at least. You always do.'

Remus ran a quivering hand through his hair. 'Merlin... ' he murmured, looking up at James through weary but desperate eyes.

'Okay - so you remember how Boggarts can also assume a form by eating body parts?' asked Remus.

James nodded.

'Right,' he continued, 'well you can find those shape-shifting properties in their entrails too. So what I'm thinking is that Sirius ate the entrails, and ate _so _many of them that he was scared the result would- '

' "_Feel like labour"_,' James mouthed. Lily's hearing was unreal. 'But surely he'd need to be pregnant with someone else's, you know... '

'For something like a Boggart,' Remus rasped, 'anything would do. Dead skin, hair- '

'Which Sirius has a _fuckload _of.'

Remus gulped. 'Exactly. Right in the spaghetti and down the hatch.'

'Prongs?' whimpered Sirius. 'I'm scared, mate... '

'It's- ' started James, his voice faltering as he also knelt beside the sobbing wizard. 'It's gonna be all right, mate! W- we'll get you to Mungo's... it's... '

The sound of giant blowing raspberries broke the ensuing silence. Peter giggled in the distance.

'I think my water just broke,' grunted Sirius.


	3. Willingly Taken

**DISCLAIMER: **Characters, world, merch etc. ain't mine. Got it memorised?

**TITLE: **_Harry Potter and the Compendium of Hogwash_

**SUMMARY: **Harry brings the squad on a stake-out.

* * *

_"And I can't seem to find Molly... molly... molly... molly..."_

"They've been in that drawing room for over an hour now. I don't like this, Ron... Ron, are you listening?"

_"Molly... molly... _what the fuck am I singing right now?"

"Hey. _Ron_."

"Eh? Sorry mate, were you talking?"

For the umpteenth time that night, Harry found himself seriously questioning his skills in delegation.

He exhaled. "I'm bringing George next time, mark my words... _shit._"

The stain-glass windows shielding the Malfoy boy from his wrath rippled into focus, obscuring his view. Taking care not to graze his arm against the thorny bush in which they hid, Harry rapped his glasses with his wand. The effect was immediate: as before, he was practically inside the fairy-light infested parlour now with what he could see.

His darling Lily was trapped; a wounded gazelle in all but form as the slimy ferret-spawn of a wizard sat next to her snaked a deathly pale arm around her sides. She sunk into the plush waves of the cream sofa beneath them, her gargles quite easily mistaken for hysterical laughter while her captor whispered his sinister plot.

He'd bet his old Firebolt that the boy's father was in on it, likely sneering behind a well-placed curtain...

The _cad._

_"Mow that goat, mow that goat... yaw Nicky, mow that goat! Now mow that goat, now mow that goat... "_

Harry stared at Ron.

Ron blinked. _"Yaw Nicky mow that go- "_

"For fuck's sake, Ron!" hissed Harry, yanking the odd white tapeworms lodged in his friend's ears.

He heard Lily's faint gasp from indoors.

The Malfoy boy whipped his head around. "Wha- whuzzat?"

"It sounded like..." Lily frowned for a moment, then snorted. "Nah."

Her next movement rendered Harry's insides to shreds.

**"Code Viridian, ****Code Viridian!" **boomed Ron, pressing his wand to his throat as he threw a wild slew of hand-signals. **"She's gone for the lip-lock, lads-"**

"Oi!" Harry thumped him across the skull. "That is your _niece_, you bellend!"

"Well yeah, she is," said Ron through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed. "But I was giving out a brief_._"

Harry spat at the ground. "Fuck it... _Sonorus. _**Cauldron Company, on me!**"

Harry had asked, and he received. A smattering of DMLE trainees tore through the neatly-trimmed foliage of the Malfoy compound, converging in a arch surrounding their superior. Harry gave them a stiff nod.

"So much for a training exercise, eh?" He wore a grim smile as the group sniggered. "Well... it's all live from here, Madams and Wizards. Engage in _t _minus thirty."

A freckled witch on his right knit her brow. "Sir, we can't just- "

Harry guffawed. "Oho! But we _can, _Miss Fawcett. We've got a warrant."

"For what?"

Harry cast quick glances over the crowd before adjusting his tone.

"Bolivian pixie dust. First wand on the Malfoy boy gets a seventeen-hour key to the Evidence Room."


	4. All Along The Watchtower

**DISCLAIMER: **Characters, world, merch etc. ain't mine. Got it memorised?

**TITLE: **_Harry Potter and the Compendium of Hogwash (nWoD/M:tA crossover)_

**SUMMARY: **Harry wakes up for the first and only time.

* * *

"Cor - is it _hot _in here, eh?" boomed Sirius Black, dabbing at his brow as he staggered through the Potters' back door. "Might wanna sort those enchantments out, Lils!"

Lily shot him a heavy-lidded glance from the far side of the conservatory, ensuring to take a liberal sip of frigid pumpkin juice to stay her tongue. She tensed at the clap on her shoulder, the tenor chuckles past her ear marking the presence of James: young Master of the House and - probably against her better judgement - her husband.

"James Junior wear you out already?"

Lily took a deep, nasal breath. "His name is _Harry._ You lost. Seven years of mourning does not a sportsman make, James."

"Typical Obrimos," said Sirius, flashing a smile which only managed to further incense her. "Your sort need to unwind. Chill... "

Lily imbibed the rest of her glass, maintaining eye contact with Sirius all the while.

"There," she said, beaming as she leapt off her high chair to peck James on the cheek. "That was the last of it. Tell your mum thanks, love."

Sirius' jaw dropped. "You- _no. _The nice jug? With the cinnamon?"

Lily nodded, shuffling off to the nearby sofa where her August edition of _The Practical Potioneer _lay in wait.

The mop-haired guest scrambled for the counter, clutching the glass with desperation as he pressed it to his face.

"Just a quick Refill... should do the trick..."

He tapped the base of the glass to no effect. James winced, wringing the back of his neck.

Sirius raised his head, eyes forlorn. "_What?_"

"She bewitched them, mate. Bacchus' Bane."

Sirius, for all intents and purposes, crumbled. Lily was sure she spotted a heavy layer of sheen hanging just so under his eyelashes.

"You," he rasped, levelling a quivering finger in her direction.

She tittered. "Right? I never thought I was much of an enchantress, you know."

"So," said James with a loud clap, "now that's settled - where's my boy, Black?"

Sirius threw his head back. "In the garden. Got bored of me. Like _everyone._"

Lily felt a sharp pang in her gut. Maybe she had pushed it too far.

"You know you can do much better," she said, sniffing as an image of the dread Gorgon herself crossed her mind.

"Pucey always was a bit shit," mumbled James. "I mean, her name's _Pucey. _Seriously Pads - get over it."

Sirius hung his head. "It's worse than that. My uncle and her old lady, they've had a bit of a cabal going on for a while, now... "

"Which shouldn't concern you," said James, shrugging. "It's all business and secrets about business- "

"Except they play Gobstones at the Cauldron after Consilium meetings. All I hear about is '_You didn't buy her this_,' and '_You didn't tell her that_', and '_What do you mean you haven't flown her Liondragon yet_?' "

James squawked. "That is filth, mate." He stole a look at Lily, aghast.

The term was lost on her, yet for the umpteenth time since her Awakening, Lily considered that ignorance just might be bliss. Of course, that went against a Mage's natural inclinations.

She sighed. "Fuck it. I want to know, now."

James looked like he had swallowed a box of Acid Pops in one sitting.

"Earning your, erm... "

He coughed, mouthing a pair of words that were so simple, yet so coarse in context that Lily mentally kicked  
herself for not being able to parse it into Sleeper slang.

Lily blinked, staring blankly at Sirius. "My son is out there."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Come on, his hearing isn't _that _brill- " He trailed off, turning to the window to check on said child. "Blimey. Who taught him how to climb like that?"

"No one," said Lily and James in unison. She was on her feet and out of the door in an instant.

Her blood ran cold.

As Sirius had said, so it was: Harry was scaling the twenty-foot holly tree in their back garden, and with inexplicable ease for a slight seven-year-old.

* * *

Harry loved finding things.

Shiny things, old things, squishy things and even smelly things... sometimes... if only to break them open later.

He wasn't naughty. He ate all of his Gurdyroots and went to bed when his Mum said so (though he'd always nick his Dad's glow-in-the-dark copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages _first), and he hadn't said the M-word in front of his cousin for a whole month (though he did live far, far away, anyway).

But he loved breaking things open, mostly to find out what was inside. His Mum said it was expensive, but his Dad called it natural, so Harry settled for the middle and called it life.

So how could it be that Harry was surrounded by all of these _things - _pretty much heaven on Earth or wherever he was - and feel so sad at the same time?

_Oh yeah. The Boogeyman._

Harry had never met the Boogeyman before, but everyone who mentioned him had a described him differently, so maybe this was just _his _Boogeyman. Either way, the black-cloaked flying man kept telling him to climb the scary column of bones he was clinging to, and he was getting more impatient by the minute.

_"Higher, Sleepwalker! You squander your destiny with your lack of haste."_

With nothing else to do, and not really in the mood to die just yet, Harry obliged. If he reached the top fast enough, the Boogeyman might give him a gold nugget.

* * *

"Calm down, Lils! You'll only fluster 'im- "

"I'll fluster _you _in a minute, you inbred mutt of a man!"

Sirius cleared his throat. "Paradox. I believe the term you're looking for is 'of pedigree'."

James tried to drown out the bickering pair as he watched his son, who hung fast to the top of the tree for ten minutes and counting. He was impressed that his wife had managed to restrain herself for so long.

Then again, Sleeper-born though she was, he reminded himself that Lily knew exactly what was at stake.

And surely enough, they had won: Harry's finger traced the bark, as if to carve his mark on its jagged surface.

"He's done it!" bellowed Sirius. "_Go on, _my son!"

Lily rounded on him. "You what?"

James cackled with pride. The Potter line of Awakened remained intact... not that he'd any doubt.

"Wait a sec," said Sirius, edging towards the tree with his head held high. "Who turned the lights off?"

_Shite._

In all his reverie, James had been oblivious to the thick crest of sable clouds engulfing the sky over Godric's Hollow. The next breath he took was stale and thick, and as he stepped forward, his clothes seemed to crack at the creases.

Harry's first Nimbus.

"A Moros," said James, his voice hoarse. "Just like his Granddad."

The performance appeared to have tired Harry out, as he lost his grip as the words left his father's lips.

James sprung into action, clutching his mahogany wand for dear life as he aimed it under his earthbound son. With a flick and a cry, a bright red bouncy castle sans roof materialised long before Harry reached the ground.

The trio bounded towards Harry's prone form. Lily cradled him in her arms, rocking back and forth as she cried with what James hoped was joy.

He was sobbing twice as hard.

Soon enough, Harry's eyes flickered open, vibrant as ever.

"You did it, Harry," said Sirius, lightly jabbing the boy's ribs. "You left your name at the tower, didn't you?" He looked back at James, grinning madly.

Harry nodded. "Yeah... yes, I did. The Boogeyman said well done." Sirius' grin faltered.

"What Boogeyman, Harry-bear?" asked Lily, laughing through a sniffle.

Harry frowned. "The Boogey... no. I think he said his name, but I couldn't say it out loud."

_Atlantean, maybe?_

James knelt in front of him. "Did he say anything else, son?"

"Yeah... something about... kings... yeah! He was the king of the watchtower, and he said it was falling."

"_Falling?"_

"Yes. He said they were all falling."

* * *

**Author's note: **I've wanted to write something like this for ages. For anyone currently following _Harry Potter and the Untitled Tome, _you might recognise a reference to the New World of Darkness tabletop games in Chapter Seventeen (which I'll need to credit, actually!) I might write a more direct crossover like this one day.


	5. Wheat That Springeth Green

**DISCLAIMER: **This isn't even necessary, I know, but I can't break the habit. Sue m- never mind.

**TITLE: **_Harry Potter and the Compendium of Hogwash  
_

**SUMMARY: **Ha.

* * *

"I'm just... so turnt right now, bruh."

"You what, mate?"

"Faded."

"Eh?"

"Mm... 'Lean', wasn't it?"

"I'll give you that one."

Harry laughed hard, coughing and spluttering like Professor Tofty's living corpse of a grandfather as he gulped a mouthful of the surrounding greenish haze.

"Whoa," he wheezed, beating his chest. "I'm hit. Man down!"

"Man down! Man down!" echoed Ron and George Weasley in-between their own fits of hysterics.

It was standard fare for as long as they could remember. As Head Auror, Harry Potter was criminally overworked; communities the ICW over would plead for his Office's assistance in either neutralising the next Dark-Lord-of-the-week or rescuing some stuffy pure-blood's snot-nosed brat from a clan of disenfranchised werewolves, and with Minister Clearwater being the bleeding heart cosmopolitan witch she was, Harry usually had to oblige them.

The Weasley brothers - his own brothers in all but name (and blood, but forget that one) - noted his dire need to unwind, and were more than happy to accommodate him in the staff lounge of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes after shop hours.

In other words, his sister-in-law Hermione was right: a wizard only acted the age he looked.

Harry heaved a sigh as the giggles died down. "The words these kids use nowadays... Mind boggling, isn't it?"

"Too right." Ron poked at the plastic pouch of what Harry had affectionately termed 'Kinlochiel Kush.' "So where'd you pick this up, again?"

"Short story or..."

"Short," said Ron and George, both stone-faced. Harry pursed his lips; he of all people would admit to having a tendency to go on in his current state.

He grinned. "Your dad."

* * *

An Untitled Tome update is near for those who follow it. Stay tuned :)


	6. The Transfer

Hurrh.

* * *

"I'm telling you," said Ron loudly, slamming his fist all the way up the whole roast turkey lying helplessly on his plate. "She's a _witch!_"

"No shi... " started Ginny, trailing off as she watched the blood drain from her brother's face.

Ron's eyes, wide and glassy, were glued to the congested orifice.

"I've... I've killed it."

Thankfully, the ensuing whimpers were smothered by the din of the Great Hall.

"Anyway," said Hermione, rolling her eyes as she rubbed a sniffling Ron's back, "I'm inclined to agree. She's been nothing but trouble since she was Sorted- "

"Into a _fifth_ House, no less," said Ginny with a huff. "Since when do sixteen-year-olds get Sorted, anyway?"

Hermione shrugged. "Who knows? Probably when they began mastering Legilimency, three magical Animagus forms, the Grey Arts and Japanese tea ceremony at the age of three. You know, now that I'm thinking about it, why is she even coming here?"

Ron hiccoughed a sob as he examined his stuffing-smothered hand. "That's w-what she said..."

"You are _foul," _said Ginny.

Ron shook his head. "No, she really did. I heard them at it last night, in the Common Room."

Ginny goggled at him. "_No_!"

"Not like that," said Ron quickly, wiping his nose. "They were arguing about Hogwarts. She wants him to leave."

"What?" cried the whole Hall. Snape tried playing it cool by sinking his nose into his goblet, but everyone knew that he was a big fat gossip anyway.

It's why his nose didn't fit in goblets, after all.

Ron gave the dead turkey a look of disgust. "She was all like, 'Can't you see, Harry? They're holding us back! I'm years ahead of our lessons and... you! I've played Quidditch for Bulgaria, the Goblin Nation, Japan and both Koreas and... you! I put together _and _broke up The Weird Sisters and- "

"_Shh!_" Neville pounced on Ron, slamming his head into the plate of turkey carcass. "She's _here_..."

Several hundred pairs of eyes darted towards the entrance. Iridescent, scintillating wisps of smoke drifted past the doorway, accompanied by the enticing aroma of peaches, chrysanthemums and High Elfish-Veela breath.

"I fucking hate her," sighed Ginny with a longing look.

"I hate that she'll never fuck me," sighed Neville twice as pathetically.

Ron cried into his turkey.

The luminous fog fanned outward as a delicate yet immensely powerfully dainty hand gently but firmly carved a path of cherry blossoms which ran the length of the Hall: all the way up to the silver satin booth sat high above the High Table.

The Headmaster stood to attention, brushing the stray petals away from his beard and into Professor Flitwick's soup.

He cleared his throat. "Presenting Her Most Sublime and Noble and Youthfully Ancient Lady Madoka Black-Peverell-Jurai."

Hermione, like the rest of the population of Earth, wasn't exactly sure of how to describe what she saw when looking at the witch... That is, besides the impish yet demure smile baring even, gleaming teeth, the flick of her heavenly tresses which sent a gust of purifying Light magic into the air, and the intoxicating depths to her eyes which promised sweet suffocation by only the Darkest of Arts.

"Bae," said Seamus breathlessly. Dean looked at him, aghast.

The pair drew their wands in an instant. Despite the resultant deluge of sparks and blood flying every which way, the staff did nothing: they had eyes only for Lady Black (Peverell-Jurai).

Hermione's lip curled; they were all being ridiculous. She had no idea why she was immune to the mysterious transfer witch's charms (though she wasn't _that_ mysterious since she spent all year crying about how she was forced to be a taste-tester for a Bertie Bott's factory), but it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Madoka achieved the first Special O*++ in every O.W.L subject since 1738.

"Is..." Hermione stopped herself, leaning slightly forward to tune out the dreadful counterpoint of spellfire and Ron's sobbing. "Is that _music?"_

"Yeah," sighed Ginny and Neville together.

She heard wafer-like synthesizers vamping in ice cream changes, with crisp hi-hats bobbing along in steady common time.

It was quite the 80s-like affair, but still very relevant.

As Madoka glided up towards her the silver booth of House Ambrosius (thereby rendering the cherry blossom path competely pointless), two new arrivals emerged from the smoky aether: Harry and Colin Creevey, carrying a guitar and a cassette player respectively.

"How is that even working?" mouthed Hermione before seething in futility. It wasn't like anyone would have answered her anyway.

As Harry and Colin slowly marched down the Hall (thereby restoring the usefulness of the cherry blossom path... sort of), the Boy Who Lived proceeded to do something which shocked the nation (because it was on live Omniocular feed).

He sang.

_"I wanted you_

_To listen to my guitar,_

_I wanted to convey_

_My feelings to you,_

_But I cooouldn't do sooooooo. REDUCTO!"_

The guitar he was holding which, bear in mind, was not strummed even once, immediately turned to ash. Madoka gasped, hand on heart from her high throne.

"This is my eternal declaration of love," cried Harry, spreading his arms. "I wish to elope with you, Lady Madoka Black-Pever- er, yeah. And we're doing it this week!"

"Oh my Circe," shrieked Madoka, fanning her chest. "Like, all of my yeses!"

Had Colin not forgotten to turn off the cassette player, one might have heard Hagrid urinating on a lacewing fly in the Forest.

"Bloody hell," said Ron, slack-jawed. "She needs to be stopped."

Neville made a strained noise. "But she's so _fit_..."

Ron huffed, resting his chin on a hand. "I know, right?"

"And brave," mumbled Ginny.

"I know, right?"

Harry waved from the other side of the Hall. "And talented!"

Madoka squealed. "I know, righ-"

Hermione screamed; such outbursts were typically above her, but these were desperate times.

"No more! NO MORE!"

Fortunately, she had a plan.

* * *

**A/N: **I think I'll be doing more with this. It was fun. Oh, and credit to TM NETWORK for the lyrics to "Still Love Her"!


	7. Floo-Network Galleon

I'm bored, and desperately wanted to share that with you. Sue me, Drake. (loljk, I wuv ur warez)

**SUMMARY: **What if Black!Hermione was a thing? Faintly inspired by the outrage following the _Cursed Child_ casting and Richard Pryor's classic President's Address sketch. (Find that on YouTube: /watch?v=TaXxl5Pc6As)

* * *

"Ooh, _wurk_ it gurl!" cooed Granger as Loony Lovegood proceeded to shake her proverbial tail-feather in a manner not unlike some primitive mating call.

Put off of his dinner by the commotion of a growing number of spectators (not to mention the entirely inexplicable subwoofer sat in the middle of the Great Hall), Draco marched over, nostrils flaring.

"What nonsense is this, now?" he spat, regarding the crowd with a piercing stare. "Weasel! Explain!"

"All right, Malfoy," said Weasley, embracing the shorter wizard by the shoulders with a placatory grin. "Just a bit of slurping, you know- "

"_Ew_," said Granger, wrinkling her nose. "Nigga no. It's _twerking,_ for your information?"

"That... " started Draco, frowning, "... was not a question. Why did you end it with a question mark?"

Granger harrumphed. "You don't _know_ me. I don't have to explain shit to you. Now if you'll excuse me- " She whirled away, returning her focus to Luna. "- yeeeeeeah! Get it, _get _it, GEEEEET IIIIIIIIT!"

"I don't understand." Draco felt as if he'd been winded by a Bludger. "When did she get so... _uppity_?"

Weasley hummed. "Ah... would've been the retcon, I imagine."

"The _what_?"

"Besides the point, mate," said Weasley, clapping his back. "Back on topic, yeah? You like Hermione, right?"

"I- " Draco blustered, shrugging off the Gryffindor's grimy hand. "How dare you... even _insinuate! _I can't even... what of it, Weasel?"

"Ayy," slurred a voice behind him. Draco peered over his shoulder to meet a thoroughly dishevelled Potter, goblet in hand. As he swayed on the spot, the silver receptacle's contents sloshed to and fro, giving Draco a glimpse of an enticingly bright purple fluid.

"Potter... are you _drunk_?"

"Just waved, cuh," replied Potter. He levitated over, burping a saccharine purple cloud into Draco's face as he slung an arm over his shoulder. "Now stay woke, D-Money. You wanna pet that kitty? Well yo' ass need to get on this gift-wrappin' game, B."

"Say _what_?"

"You heard me, snowflake. Getcha bars up, homie!"

Draco knit his brow. _Is that all there is to it?_

* * *

**"You know you used to light my**

**Fireplace,**

_(pah-pah pah pah)_

**When you wanna**

**Pet my snake...**

**Y'used to light my **

**Fireplace,**

_(pah-pah pah pah)_

**To get it in ya**

**Cauldron Cake...**

**And I know when that**

**Floo go Boom!**

**That I gotta**

**Clean my room**

**And I know when that**

**Floo go Boom!**

**My anaconda**

**'Gon balloon!**

**Ever since I left the Alley **

**Yooooooooou..."**

"Draco!" snapped his father from the door frame, incredulous. "What on _earth_ are you doing, man?"

Draco squeaked, spinning on the spot as he scrambled to Vanish his recording equipment.

"Is this..." His father sneered as he tip-toed around the cluttered chamber. "_Muggle _paraphernalia?"

"No, _no, _nothing like that, Father! It's just..."

"What?"

Draco exhaled. There was nothing for it.

"All right, you caught me, Father. We've gotten a little carried away with the Muggle-baiting this summer - we're using their wadee-o thingies to track them down, now."

His father did a double take, looking well and truly perplexed.

"Wadee-o, you say?" His scrubbed his chin. "Why didn't we ever think of that? Well then - try not to have _too _much fun, eh?"

Draco laughed weakly. "Of course, Father."

* * *

Credit to Drake for "Hotline Bling". This is just a vomit of a parody.


End file.
